It’s such a great day I think I’ll play a round of golf. I haven’t talked about the G word lately. G.O.L.F. which stands for Getting Old and Living Fine. I love the game for the fresh air, exercise and camaraderie. Not to mention the 19th hole. How many strokes it takes to finally manipulate the ball into the cup on the green is irrelevant. I don’t play well enough to have a handicap so for me there’s no subtraction of a handicap from my gross score to get a net score. My score is really gross. Of course you need to add a stroke for each mulligan you took to get your true score.
If whiffs and fluffs are also counted, the resulting tabulation is your real score. If strokes for improved lies and lost balls are included, the grand total is your actual score. This number when adjusted upward to include all gimme putts and nonchalant backhanders becomes the correct score. When all strokes attempted in sand traps and around obstacles are tacked on, this larger sum is the absolute, final, honest-to-goodness score, which is usually only just a few strokes lower than the total number of shots you actually took. As I’ve said before, its almost impossible to remember what a tragic place the world can be when one is playing golf.